


Deja Vu

by Try2CatchMe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Danny Winchester, Gen, Katie Milligan, M/M, Malcolm Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Try2CatchMe/pseuds/Try2CatchMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They appeared in a flash of light, falling from the ceiling and landing in a groaning heap of limbs and cloth on the kitschy motel carpet.</p><p>--</p><p>NOW WITH PODFIC!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be one or two more parts of this, but I'm going to go ahead and post it now so after I get back from having my soul crushed at my writing workshop, I'll have nice comments to read.
> 
> Based on this post: http://thespywhospies.tumblr.com/post/42271979999/supernatural-au-the-future-winchesters-time

Sam and Dean were relatively used to unwelcome guests in their motel rooms. Whether they appeared near-silently, like angels, or with a dramatic flair, like Henry, people and creatures were always inviting themselves in. It was why Sam always kept a gun on him and was relatively sure Dean was never without at least six kinds of weaponry.

Still, all the people who'd showed up before had something in common. They never appeared in a flash of light, falling from the ceiling and landing in a groaning heap of limbs and cloth on the kitschy motel carpet.

"What the-?" Sam was on his feet instantly.

Dean was already pulling out his gun, "Great, not this shit again. Who the hell are you two?"

Sam had to give kudos to his brother for being able to identify how many people were in the pile, because all he could see was cloth and blindly groping hands.

Finally, a head poked free. A head covered with dark hair that groaned when it saw Dean's gun.

"Wow, okay genius." The boy, who looked to be in his late teens, started tugging his limbs free from his companions, pitching his voice lower in mockery and giving it a slight accent, "'Let's go find our parents! It's a great idea!' my ass. Way to go, Mal."

The other person, a boy two or three years older than the first, shoved his way free and smacked his companion upside the head, "Come on couzie, give me a break. We need help tracking that demon. Who better to ask?" His voice was indeed deeper than the first boy's and accented, though just barely and not any particular lilt Sam could put a name to.

Dean experienced a full-body flinch before retraining his gun on the pair. Sam blanched, "'Parents'?!"

"Yes, the name's Malcolm." The older boy said, standing and straightening his dark pea coat. He ran a hand through long, honey colored hair that was so haphazardly perfect that it could only have been styled that way, "This is Danny, or Daniel, if you prefer. Hullo, Dad. Uncle Dean."

Danny took that as his cue to give a grin and wave his fingers at Dean, who was getting paler by the second. Danny looked considerably less put-together than Malcolm, with the patchy scruff, dark hair that looked like looked like it had never seen a brush, and threadbare sweater that was clearly a favorite piece of his wardrobe if the faded color was anything to go by. But, now that Sam looked, there was something distinctly _Dean_ about him. Not so much in his features, though those were familiar for a different, unknown reason, but more his expressions, like the smug crinkle of his eyes when he smiled.

Sam's thoughts were swimming through molasses trying to process what his eyes were seeing. Dean just pointed his gun more aggressively. Malcolm looked distinctly unimpressed. Danny rolled his eyes.

"You seriously expect us to believe-" Dean's tirade of barely suppressed rage was cut off by Danny smirking and loudly humming the opening riff to 'Smoke on the Water'.

Sam didn't understand the significance at first, but then he did. The memories from his time without a soul were all pretty fuzzy, it's hard to accurately remember something you didn't ascribe value to at the time, but he distinctly remembered Dean humming 'Smoke on the Water' to put the shifter baby to sleep.

Dean, for his part, got it immediately, went even paler, and damn near dropped his gun.

Malcolm raised a sarcastic eyebrow and drawled dryly, "Are you going to faint, Uncle?" That got him a glare, but he only shrugged. "Honestly, you can't be that surprised. Although," he narrowed his eyes at them analytically. "You both seem rather young. What year is it?"

"2013," Sam managed to croak out, still trying to reconcile the fact that the young man in front of him was possibly his child from the future.

Hazel eyes widening, Malcolm let out a low whistle, "Well, we've really overshot, haven't we?"

"Explains a lot though," Danny shifted uncomfortably, putting his back to the motel room wall, then letting out a breath like it pained him. It was just about then that Sam noticed how tightly the boy was gripping his shoulder, "Feel free to keep the gun out if it makes you feel better, Dad, but could someone, umm, help me pop my arm back in? Please?"

Dean made an aborted move forward, lowering his gun, but Malcolm was already kneeling by his cousin's side and prying his hand away from his shoulder while scowling.

"You idiot, when you screw up your landing and dislocate your shoulder you should say 'ow fuck I've dislocated my shoulder someone help' not take a few minutes to pick fun at me and your dad." Malcolm shot an accusing look over his shoulder, "One of you get over here and hold him still so I can put him back together. Sometime today would be nice."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then Dean stowed his gun and took a few steps over to crouch by… by his _son_. Holy shit, their lives.

Dean grabbed Danny’s good shoulder, then nodded at Malcolm. The older boy then took hold of the elbow of Danny’s bad arm and his wrist, “Take a breath.”

Danny obeyed easily, leaning forward and holy crap, Sam had never seen anyone relax on cue that easily, especially with a dislocated shoulder. Those hurt like a bitch.

Malcolm carefully manipulated Danny’s arm into a position over his shoulder, despite the fact that his cousin was grimacing, “Okay, reach.”

It only took a moment with Danny reaching behind his head toward his good shoulder before there was a loud ‘pop’ and he let out a sigh of relief.

“I _hate_ doing that.”

“Exactly how often do you get your shoulder dislocated?” Dean asked, sitting back on his heels.

“Popped it out once when I was little-"

"He thought jumping off the roof would help him to fly."

"I was _five_! Do you want me to tell them about Paris? Because I will tell them about Paris." The glared at each other silently for a few moments before he continued. "Now whenever I hit it just right…” Danny shrugged with his good shoulder

Sam rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead, making to move toward the door, “I’ll get some ice.”

“It’s okay,” Malcolm stopped him, “He’ll be alright here in a second.”

Sam turned to give his son a dubious look, but the boy had already stood again and leaned against the wall, pulling a ziplock baggie full of what looked like chocolate out of the inner pocket of his coat and popping a piece of candy in his mouth.

“He’s right,” Danny said, already clenching and unclenching his fist and flexing his arm, “I’ll be good in a minute.”

Carefully, Sam looked over at Dean, but his brother had already narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“No one bounces back from a dislocated shoulder like that,” Dean said, “I don’t care how often it’s happened.”

Before either boy could reply, Dean hooked his fingers in the collar of Danny’s well-worn sweater and pulled it down and to the side.

“Hey!” Danny yelped, slapping at his father’s hand, “Bad touch!”

Dean smacked Danny lightly upside the head without looking away from the shoulder he’d revealed, which was glowing slightly, though the light was fading even as they watched.

“You’re not human, are you?” It was impossible to identify the emotion in Dean’s voice.

“I take offense to that,” Malcolm broke in, rescuing his cousin from the crushing awkward silence that had threatened to invade. He launched a chocolate into the air with his thumb and caught it in his mouth. “We’re human. We just have… a little something extra.”

Sam gaped, “You too?” Malcolm just shrugged.

“What he said,” Danny finally found his voice. “We’re human… mostly. We’re like people plus.”

“Plus _what_ , exactly?”

“Well, if you don’t know _that_ then we are farther back in your timeline than I had originally thought.” He paused for thought. “We should maybe head back before we pollute the time-stream, or whatever Uncle Cas called it. Hey,” he nudged his cousin with a booted toe, “Can you stand yet?”

“Not all of us can get right back up after time-jumping several decades, Mr. ‘I’m So Genetically Superior’.” Danny grumbled, “And candy doesn’t help me like it does you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Malcolm primly stated, reaching into his coat and retrieving another baggie, “Does that mean you _don’t_ want the gummy bears I brought for you?”

Danny made a noise of frustration when he grabbed for the bag and Malcolm drew it out of his reach.

“Say please.” The older boy smirked.

Danny glared and used his newly-healed hand to jab a pressure point in the back of Malcolm’s leg. Swearing, his cousin toppled, allowing Danny to easily scoop up the fallen baggie.

“Thanks, Mal.” He said cheekily, biting off a gummy bear’s head.

“You’re psychotic.” Malcolm groaned.

“I have been told that, yes.”

There were a few beats of silence while Malcolm tried to gather the shards of his dignity and Danny happily massacred his bears.

Then Dean sighed, running his hand down his face, “Okay, first of all,” he said, holding up a finger, “Neither of you are going anywhere. Second, you are going to explain everything. Third,” he got to his feet, “I need a drink.”

“Don’t drink your feelings, Uncle Dean.” Malcolm advised from the floor, “I hear angst goes straight to your thighs.”

Dean had absolutely zero problems with flipping his nephew off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hold up,” Dean said, narrowing his eyes, “You’re telling me you came back in time because you didn’t want to wash a car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this now so that, when I get back from my critique tomorrow, hopefully I'll have some nice comments to read.

When Danny had recovered enough to stand, they moved the party over to the crowded motel room table.

And the definition of 'party' in this case was 'a long awkward silence occasionally broken by Malcolm munching on some kind of sweet he definitely hadn't had ten seconds ago'.

"You mentioned a demon?" Dean finally ventured.

"Yeah, we're having issues tracking one." Malcolm said, licking cheesecake from a fork, "We figured you'd be the best people to ask for advice."

"And you can't ask us in your time because...?"

Dean was all geared up to hear 'because you're dead'. Honestly, he would not have been surprised.

But instead, Danny just shrugged, sitting backwards on a chair, "Because we don't want to draw you back into hunting when you've been retired for the last five years."

"Except for that thing with the Wendigo." Malcolm smirked around his fork, "You snuck out to hunt one, nearly died, and Uncle Cas had to save you. I honestly thought he was going to let you bleed out for a minute there, just to teach you a lesson."

"Yeah, he was pretty pissed," Danny muttered. Dean started to turn red.

Sam coughed into a fist to try and draw the conversation away from the shattered remains of his brother's dignity, "So you two are Hunters now?"

"Eh, whenever there's something to hunt," Danny shrugged, "Honestly, there's barely anything around nowadays. Maybe one hunt every three or four months. Hasn't been a demon in over a year."

"You don't even look old enough to be out of high school."

Danny snorted, "I'm not. High school was boring, I dropped out the second I could and got a GED; gives me a lot more time to work on other stuff when I’m not sitting in a cramped room for seven hours a day being spoon fed a dumbed-down, cookie-cutter version of something that I’d have to relearn in college if I expected to use it anyway.”

“Danny has some very strong opinions about the school system,” Malcolm said with a smirk.

“That’s because-!”

“Shhhhh…” Malcolm said loudly, reaching over to clamp a hand over Danny’s mouth, “Silence.”

Sam sort of felt like he was in the Twilight Zone and Dean didn’t look much better. Though Dean did make a concentrated effort to change the subject, “What ‘other stuff’ do you work on?”

Danny and Malcolm exchanged smirks. Without answering, Malcolm stood, shucked off his long coat, and draped it over the back of his chair, revealing a white dress shirt, dark pants, and two very long, thin knife sheathes attached to his belt. He laid them both on the table then sat back down.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks before Sam picked up one of the sheathes and slid the blade out. The knife was pure silver, well-balanced, with sigils etched into it in strategic locations.

“Is this Enochian?” Dean asked, examining the other knife, which was iron.

“Covers angels and demons,” Malcolm said, idly stirring a milkshake, “The silver and iron takes care of just about everything else.”

“Except Wendigos,” Danny grumbled, “Wendigos are the worst.”

“You designed these?” Dean asked, checking the balance of the knife.

“Made ‘em too, once I convinced you to let me build a forge out back.”

“I hope, when that conversation happens,” Sam said to Dean, “You record it, so I can laugh forever.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Make me, jerk.”

“D’aww, you two really are like an old married couple! Uncle Gabe was right.”

Sam and Dean both froze, slowly turning to look at Danny in creepy synchronization.

“Gabe?” Sam asked, “As in… Gabriel? The _archangel_? He’s _alive_?”

Danny’s eyes went as round as dinner plates, Malcolm facepalmed, “Way to go, champ.”

“It’s not my fault! You’re the one who took us so far back they don’t even know Uncle Gabe’s alive yet! In fact, this was all your idea!”

“We needed advice! And if we ask Ben for info one more time, he’s going to make us wash his car again!”

“Hold up,” Dean said, narrowing his eyes, “You’re telling me you _came back in time_ because you didn’t want to _wash a car_.”

“It’s not so much washing the car itself,” Malcolm said primly, “It’s the principle of the thing.”

Danny dropped his head on his folded arms and groaned, “You’re not helping.”

Sam was about to say something, but immediately forgot what when he caught sight of Danny’s shadow, “Dean…”

His brother turned to look at him and Sam nodded toward the wall. He knew the instant Dean saw what he did because his brother stood up so fast he knocked his chair to the ground. “What the hell?!”

Danny and Malcolm both jumped. “What?” Danny asked, “What’s wrong?”

Dean jabbed a finger at him, “Is that ‘something extra’ you mentioned before ‘ _angel’_ by any chance?”

Danny blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, then followed Dean’s gaze to his shadow on the wall, where the silhouette of short wings curved around his shoulders was clearly visible, “Oh…”

Malcolm smacked his cousin upside the head, “Okay, I’m the one whose idea it was to come back this far, but _you’re_ the one who keeps spilling the beans. You know how to control your shadow!”

“I forgot they didn’t know! I never usually have to hide it around them.” Danny grumbled, hunching his shoulders and the shadow shifted, showing the wings curl around him like a shield, “This is going _so_ badly.”

“What was your first clue?”

“Wait a second…” the wheels were turning in Sam’s head and something had just clicked into place. “Danny, I have a question for you.”

Danny looked at him warily, “Yes?”

“Is Cas your uncle?”

“No.”

Sam smirked and pointed at Dean, “I _knew_ it!”

Bristling, Dean snarled, “Knew _what_?”

“You and Cas! Technically, angels are sexless, it could happen.”

“ _What_?!” Dean reared back, shooting a glance at Danny, who looked like he was doing his level best to melt into the floor, “I- you-”

But then Danny looked up at him through his dark hair and… yeah, Dean could see it.

“Son of a bitch,” he just about fell into his chair. There were a few seconds of silence before he turned to Malcolm, “Okay, so what about you?”

Malcolm froze in the middle of gnawing on a Tootsie Pop and that was all the answer Dean needed.

“Well Sammy, anything you want to tell me about you and Gabriel?”

“I don’t know, Dean. You want to come clean about you and Cas?”

They glared at each other for a few moments before Malcolm coughed into his hand, “ _Awkward_ …”

“Maybe you should erase the last hour of their memory,” Danny grumbled into his arms, “That way, they can’t ground us in the future. Because otherwise? We are _so_ grounded.”

“That’s probably a good idea, we still have a couple of options to try before going to Ben anyway.”

“No erasing our memory,” Sam said sternly.

“This is all your fault, Mal.” Danny continued, not lifting his head, “All your fault and I hate you.”

“Hey, any screwing up of the time-line that comes out of this is on _you_ , blabbermouth.”

Before anyone could say anything else, another flash of light illuminated the room. This time, though, instead of it appearing at ceiling level and dumping two people onto the ground before vanishing, a small figure stepped out of it casually before it disappeared.

This new ‘guest’ was a twelve-year-old girl in a pink sundress and black combat boots. She had blonde pigtails and icy eyes narrowed in a stern glare that made her adorable rather than fearsome.

She planted her hand on her hips and directed her glare at Danny and Malcolm, who looked at her and paled. “You’re in _trouble_ …”

“ _Shit_.” Malcolm snapped, disappearing his candy; presumably back into one of his various pockets.

“Er, hi Katie.” Danny tried, “We were just-”

“Daddy says if you come home right now, he won’t tell Uncle Sam and Uncle Dean. Uncle Cas and Uncle Gabe are fair game, though.”

“Done!” Malcolm was instantly on his feet, sheathing his knives and shucking on his coat, “They’re sensible, we can talk to them.”

Danny was out of his chair too, giving Sam and Dean a blinding grin, “Well, this _has_ been fun. Forget everything I told you, see you in a couple of decades!”

Katie looked over at Sam and Dean, who were gaping, and beamed at them, waving, “Hi Uncle Dean! Uncle Sam! Daddy and Papa say hi!”

Malcolm planted a hand on the shoulder of each of his cousins, winked at his dad, and then, with a final flash of light that showed off no only Danny’s wings but also a set on Katie and four massive ones on Malcolm, they were gone.

Sam and Dean blinked at the space they’d left.

It was silent for a good three minutes.

“Did that little girl look like Adam’s mom to you?” Sam finally asked.

Dean ran a hand down his face, “I’m getting that drink. Right now.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Deja Vu - Podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519257) by [silkylustre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkylustre/pseuds/silkylustre)




End file.
